Salvation
by ladycross
Summary: DESTIEL. Slash on future chapters. The Apocalypse happens. Dean dies. Castiel sacrifices. They later find themselves on opposite ends of the battlefield, with one of them hellbent on destroying the other,remembering nothing of their past.
1. Chapter 1

A/N-Finally! My muse decided to work with me again!...Changes may be done when everything is finished. Errr..tis not really canon...but it sorta is...ack! just don't bother too much wit dem timeline details..everything here happens fer a reason..^^"-

Disclaimers: Sadly, SPN and all its characters ain't mine...

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><p>"I'll hold them of. I'll hold them <em>all<em> off! Now GO!" Castiel yelled through the screeching myriad of wings and claws raining down upon them both as they struggled to move towards their destination.

"Don't die on me Cas!" Dean managed to shout just before the angel disappeared from his side and reappeared to where demon population was thickest,hacking, stabbing and blasting away all he could.

Dean squinted his eyes, trying to search for Sam. Well...Lucifer, actually...the sonovabitch who was wearing his brother as a fucking condom.

He scanned the area thoroughly, barely making out anything clearly amidst the blood red surroundings. The screams and roars of the Devil's creatures were enough to make anyone go mad. But he was Dean Winchester after all. He was too numb. Too used to these things. Too desperate to make all of this end.

Even if it meant having to put a bullet through Sammy's chest.

He loved Sam. He really did. But there wasn't any trace of him left in that shell. It only had the same fucking puppy-dog eyes and ridiculous haircut, but everything else was all Lucifer. He figured it would definitely hurt when he pulled the trigger, and Sa-Lucifer would fall dead, but what more could he lose now, right? He could just about die on the spot and that would be the end of it. As they say, "No pain, no gain." He muttered those words under his breath while his eyes searched the terrain for a sasquatch clad in a white suit.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon..." The deafening sounds had been drowned out by his concentration on the task at hand, and his eyes were starting to hurt when _finally_, he saw a glimpse of white amongst all the black. Lucifer was standing about twenty feet away, his back turned. It looked like he was talking to someone…

But hey, who cares? It was about fucking time for the colt to be put into action. He seized the gun from his holster; his breath automatically steadying itself as he stretched his arm out, aimed, and squeezed...

...just in time to see Sam's head turn to him, _smiling,_as the bullet hit him square on the forehead.

"That hurt-" Lucifer slowly mouthed, completing the phrase with a sad frown, eyebrows mashing together.

Dean froze.

The Colt was supposed to _work._ But it didn't. It wasn't even enough to graze the little shit!

His eyes remained fixed on Sam's face, chest heaving like he had just run a marathon, mouth reading the rest of what the Devil said.

"-My turn..."

Dean didn't even need to understand what Lucifer had uttered. He felt something punch him in the back, only to realize that he wasn't punched.

The hunter looked down to see a large, clawed hand sticking out from his chest, dripping crimson blood. His own damned blood.

He swallowed thickly, his mind unable to process anything else except "Shit. I'm dead for fucking good."

From the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw a blinding light explode accompanied by a deep roar that seemed somewhat familiar.

Dean felt an odd tug and noticed that the hand in his chest was gone, only to be replaced by a messy, gaping hole, with a few chunks of white (which he suspected to be a portion of his shattered sternum) showing. Torn flesh along with a few bleeding arteries hung along the wound's edges. Warm liquid trickled swiftly down his front, staining his dust-stained shirt bright red.

"Heh..." was all he managed to say before the world slowly tilted backwards; his eyes, catching sight of the atmosphere above that seemed to be ablaze with the sun; making his head greet the concrete with a rather loud thud.

His vision was swimming and he could feel numbness start to creep from his fingers and toes...he wasn't sure how he was still able to breathe, but Jesus _fucking _Christ did it hurt when he tried to inhale. His nostrils flared, mouth falling open as his body desperately attempted to compensate for lost oxygen. It was as if his chest had become a voodoo doll being attacked by a thousand needles stabbing and twisting repeatedly every time his ribcage expanded.

Wait. Someone was blocking his perfect view of the sky.

It was Cas. All bloody, but still alive. He was saying something but Dean could only hear slurs and he felt like his ears were underwater. Darkness was beginning to inch across his sight. And he hated it because he liked looking at Cas.

Fuck. Even until death, he was still being cockblocked.

Nevertheless, he tried to focus on Cas' worried face one last time, and smiled.

"See ya, Cas..."

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><p>"Dean. DEAN!" Castiel was desperate, shaking Dean weakly by the shoulders as he knelt on the hard ground next to the bleeding hunter. He could feel Dean's life ebbing away along with every pint of blood seeping out of him. He was losing the hunter faster than he expected.<p>

He tried touching him with his "mojo", but he had run out of what Dean called his angel juice from the last attack he made on Lucifer's minions. He was barely keeping himself alive.

Dean's eyes were going out of focus and his face was drained of all color. His heavy, ragged breaths seemed all the more painful with the enormous cavity gaping hideously at him. It pained Castiel to see him like this. Once so full of life and energy, now this. It was only a matter of seconds before he was gone.

Hot tears were beginning to fall from his eyes. His face twisted into a grimace as he held fast to Dean's tattered shirt, voice shaking as he tried to speak properly. "Don't do this Dean. _Not now_. Not now when I can't even heal the simplest of your wounds..." He squinted letting more tears fall to the ground.

The pain he was feeling right now was tremendous.

Not even the deaths of his comrades…his brothers...was enough to rival the agony that was torturing him at the moment. Compared to this, all those hurtful memories were dull. Petty, even.

The sky darkened. Demons had begun to surround them, looking hungry, yet wary...as if waiting for orders...or perhaps something else.

But he could care less. All that mattered at this moment was Dean. _His Dean_. He searched his face once more and noticed that green eyes were focused on him.

The idiot could still smile even at this state!

He could have smiled in return, but after that split second, all was lost. Dean's mouth turned slack, and his eyes grew blank as the last of his breath escaped him.

"See ya, Cas."

Cas was only able to stare unblinkingly at the corpse before him, tears blurring his vision. He was vaguely aware that the swarm of demons were getting closer, and his keen hearing picked up word about doing something with the Winchester boy's body.

He was having none of that.

He was able to give everything up for Dean before. He was still capable of doing that now. Even at a greater cost.

Spreading his enormous wings and temporarily blinding the enemies, he tore off Dean's shirt and placed his hand right over the mark he made when he had raised Dean from perdition.

His palm started to glow, as he chanted in Enochian; The light growing larger, brighter with every word. He closed his eyes and chanted louder...the radiance threatening to spill from his eyes, his mouth, but all going straight to where his hand was connected to Dean's skin.

The last of his strength finally left him. It was his turn to smile now.

A massive burst of light exploded, illuminating and destroying everything it touched.

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><p>Dean sat bolt-right up, wide-eyed, gasping lungfuls of air.<p>

The hunter suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings, braced himself for any kind of attack that might come at him. The memory of wings and talons clouding the sky all too vivid for him to easily forget. He mentally hit himself in the head about a second later when he realized that there was nothing to protect himself from.

Everything was all bleary. Thick clouds were hovering a little too closely above. The air seemed to be packed with dust, making his very lungs itch every time he breathed. Carcasses of demons and other creatures of darkness were strewn across the landscape, most of them looking like they were fried to a crisp.

Everywhere else seemed to be coated in dry blood. Other than that, he was the only thing that was actually _moving._

Moving? He- wasn't he invalid just a while ago? The hunter thought frantically; trembling hands touching his supposedly wound caked face, but finding out that it was horribly smooth. His fingers splayed on his now crater-free chest, vaguely recalling an image of a butt-ugly hand sticking out from it.

This had to be the work of-

"Cas?" He called out, eyes picking out various shapes on the ground, then looking expectantly up, remembering that the angel was the last he saw before everything went black...

His gaze landed on something tan and disheveled a few feet away.

It was a someone. All bloody and wounded...and dead. He was on his stomach with his face to the side, scarlet pooling beneath him. Blue, blue eyes staring blankly into the horizon.

_Fuck._

"**CAS!**"

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><p>AN: Am I evil? I think so too...^_^'' This will be my first time writing a chaptered story, so, please comment and and keep them up so I'd be even moar powered up to do more Destiel chapters.

See ya in the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Did you guys wait long? *ducks from hurled stones*Sorry about that. I noticed that there were a lot of mistakes and details lacking in the first chapter, since I kinda posted it hot off the press (won't happen again) and I had to edit some things- w/c you may or may not notice if you bother to go back and read. So I made sure that this time, everything would be all smooth for you guys to enjoy.

I know, I know…enough with the ramble, on with the story…

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><p><em>"Cas?" He called out, eyes picking out various shapes on the ground, then looking expectantly up, remembering that the angel was the last he saw before everything went black...<em>

_His gaze landed on something tan and disheveled a few feet away._

_It was a someone. All bloody and wounded...and dead. He was on his stomach with his face to the side, scarlet pooling beneath him. Blue, blue eyes staring blankly into the horizon._

_Fuck._

_"_**_CAS!_**_"_

Dean half ran, half stumbled in a hurry over to where the heap of brown trench coat was; suddenly _praying _frantically to a God who he despised,that the bastard was actually fine and was just playing a sick joke on him.

But his brain was telling him otherwise. After every hunt and massacre and bloodshed he and Sam had been through, a single glance was enough to tell him if someone was already a gonner.

_Screw common sense!_ He thought furiously, screaming back at the little voice inside his head that was insisting on something he didn't want to accept. _Couldn't_ _ever_ accept. Cas was a fucking Angel of the Lord! Definitely not human, therefore definitely not included in the list of the _easily killed off_. He was the one who yanked him out of hell for _chrissakes!_ Hadn't he brought him and Sam back to life more than once? Without dying?

The hunter reached Castiel in a flurry of dust, falling carelessly on his knees beside the still angel.

"C'mon Cas, buddy. I'm here…c'mon man, quick fucking around and get the fuck up…" he said, grasping the angel by the shoulders and twisting him so that he was now facing Dean completely. The hunter tried to pull on a smile –even if it felt like he'd rather chew off his arm- just in case the bastard really was joking around. Trying to convince himself that all this shit wasn't really happening.

But it was futile. The half-assed smile slowly turned into a scowl, as the seconds ticked by and Castiel was still unmoving.

He couldn't even hear the words that were tumbling from his mouth anymore. The words kept coming and coming like an endless fountain. An odd ringing filled his ears as the image of Castiel, bloody and limp on the ground filled his vision, like thick, wet paint spreading and saturating itself on a once immaculate canvas. His body quivered from all the mixed emotions bottled up. Emotions which were now threatening to burst from its tightly sealed container.

Sadness and pain welled up in his chest, almost suffocating him. The heavy weight of guilt pressed at him from all sides, making him want to vomit his guts out. Regret filled his being to the very brim…

All these swirled inside him like dangerous storm…yet there was one feeling that stood above the rest-

Anger. Treacherous anger that gripped him mercilessly. Anger with himself. About God. About fate and destiny. About why all this was fucking happening to him. The fury rumbled in his chest, growing larger…hotter…churning like an endless furnace. From his innermost depths he could feel it rising…higher and higher…now accompanied by yet another element he couldn't identify…

All of a sudden, he was seized by an unknown force; his head tilted towards the sky, body going completely rigid, his eyes and mouth opened wide as a brilliant light illuminated from within him. A dull ache mapped itself across his back, settling on his shoulder blades; intensifying…deepening… until it felt like several rusty knives were carving the fucking world map simultaneously into his very skin.

And there it was…amidst his suffering…Castiel's voice, a ray of light; Rough, and low and soothing…telling him that this pain was only momentary. That this was for the best. That he was sorry. That this was all for _him_. That everything had always been for _him._ _Only for him… _

The agony seemed to go on and on for what seemed like an eternity…and then, just as abruptly as it began, it suddenly stopped.

Dean opened his eyes, still panting from the now non-existent pain, looked at his trembling hands- and choked back a scream, as his gaze landed on white, pristine feathers…huge feathers that were scattered on either side of him; some of the smaller ones drifting off, carried by a gust of wind.

At first he thought they belonged to the still unmoving angel, but was rather shocked when he realized that the feathers originated from a huge pair of wings…that were emerging quite obviously from either side of his back.

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><p>A whole new wave of sorrow crashed over Dean Winchester, as realization hit him like a rock. He was dead. And was supposed to remain dead. Until Cas gave up his very grace to save a useless piece of shit like him.<p>

He gripped the angel tightly, wrapping his arms around the frail body, burying his face in the dark, unruly hair; his massive wings automatically shrouding them both, shielding them from the dark, ugly world that lay in waste before them.

His once unbreakable armor…had finally shattered into a billion pieces.

"I'm sorry..." Dean said weakly, lips trembling as tears streamed freely down his face; body shaking uncontrollably from the sobs he tried so hard to hold back.

"I'm sorry…so sorry Cas, oh god. I'm sorry." He whispered over and over again, embracing the angel tighter, pulling him even closer, if that were possible, unconsciously rocking him back and forth to a silent lullaby… not giving a fuck about angel blood now smeared all over his front.

He wanted to yell until his lungs gave out. Wanted to set anything and everything ablaze with the rage that was eating him alive…wanted to escape this horrible nightmare…to awaken on a motel bed, alarmed at his personal space being invaded, with deep blues gazing intensely at him; calming him…telling him that all was just fine. He wanted to hear that voice once more…assuring him repeatedly that things would be taken care of.

Hours had passed. The tears had dried up. The blood had turned brown and crusty. Dean now lay beside the deceased angel, still cradling him. He had run through everything he knew. His mind scanning the numerous dusty pages he had gone through before. He knew a lot of things. And he suddenly regretted having to know too much. Because it hurt like hell when he knew that there were some things that couldn't ever be fixed.

There was no mistaking it this time, no matter what he did. Cas wasn't off on some mission. He wasn't even dragged off to heaven by his brothers, which would have been loads better. The hunter thought bitterly, biting his lower lip until it bled; digging his fingers deep into the dirt as the figure of huge black wings imprinted clearly on the ashen ground where Cas lay, burnt itself forever into his memory.

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><p><em>Consciousness wafted through him like smoke. Weaving…curling…winding… urging him to rouse. He slowly became aware of thunder rolling above him; the scent of charred wood and…something like flesh filled his nostrils; stirring an impending migraine in his already tender head. <em>

_His eyes were closed; lids feeling too heavy to bother opening. But it was hot. Too hot for him to remain lying there face down, with the hard dirt cutting into his skin; tiny pebbles digging into the hollow of his cheek. He could feel the sweat dripping generously from everywhere; trickling down his forehead…his back…his thighs; making his hair stick on his face; stinging tiny wounds he didn't know he had. Probably scratches from the god-awful ground he was using as a bed right now._

_Ah…fuck this. He thought. At least he was still alive, and still, apparently whole-he added to himself, absentmindedly checking if he was missing any of his limbs._

_He didn't even know how he got here…wherever here was. He would have bothered to check though, if he wasn't feeling so damned tired and lazy at the moment._

_Halfway through his idle musings, he sensed something stir… _heard _something stir._ _It was an odd sound though. One moment it would be like a low and guttural hum…and then it would turn into wild and erratic…gasping?_

_In all honesty, he wouldn't have minded and would have remained where he was for all eternity, if it wasn't for that something, which started to sound like it was actually trying to speak._

"_Huuuuh…"_

_He squeezed his lids tightly…not wanting to be bothered by the little fucker._

"_H-huuu…"_

_The thing sounded very old…and for some reason, very scared. He thought, amazed at his own observation, even with his eyes closed._

_The something somehow brushed against his nose. It was apparently closer than he thought….and apparently filthier than he thought. It felt cold, clammy…grimy even. And the scent of decaying flesh began to smother him. _

_Before the thing had a chance to utter a sound again, he finally decided to crack his eyes open…_

…_only to let cry of terror erupt from his lips._

_The thing…was a head, sticking out from the cracked earth. It could have been human once, but it was far from that now. Slimy, gray flesh stretched tightly across its misshapen features. Gashes covered its wide forehead, some were fresh, some held tightly together by thick black cords in the form of stitches. Its huge lidless eyes were sunken; pupils constricted into tiny little dots, several miniscule veins formed a map across its sclera, covering most of the supposedly white areas. Its mouth was stretched impossibly wide…so wide that the corners of its lips were torn severely, almost reaching its ears. Shreds of flesh ran vertically from its upper down to its lower lip; not letting its mouth open any further, every time it moaned._

_He scrambled to his knees as fast as he could as he stared at it in shock._

"_H-H-uu…" it continued to struggle, looking at him pleadingly._

_He blinked, suddenly feeling sorry for the creature._

"_H-heeeeeeeeeelp!" it finally managed to groan out, its voice, tired and grating from the effort. _

"_I…I…" he stuttered, at a loss for words. Help? Help how? _

_The thing was stuck from the neck down in the freaking ground! And whoever…whatever put it there made sure that there was no way in hell it was getting out easily._

_He watched in pity as the thing tortured itself, twisting as much as it could, eyes still glued to his; its face contorting into what seemed like unbearable pain._

"_D-doooown…" it slurred, eyes looking downward, widening even more…looking frantically at something he couldn't see. "…eat…eaaat meeee…" _

_Thought it wasn't that clear to him, it was quite easy to put two and two together by looking at the creature's terrified expression, and the words it spoke. He decided that he would give the poor thing a shot._

_He inched closer to the head, and when he got close enough, he flexed his clawed hands gingerly, stuck his talons on the mound near the thing's neck, and started to dig._

_When he finally got a glimpse of the grey skin of the thing's shoulder, the ground began to quake…_

"_P-pleeeeaaase…!" the creature, obviously frightened by now, began to struggle; heaving and stretching for all it was worth. _

_A deep rumbling came from below…building up with every shake of the trembling earth; cracks began to appear a few feet away, adding more lines to the already rough terrain, like a many headed snake, slithering at increasing speed towards them._

_His tail lashed back and forth, twitching nervously as the sudden urge to make haste right the fuck now dawned on him. He put his back into it, pulling out bigger chunks of dirt and rocks, feeling like his spine would pop any second._

"_Damn, you owe me big time…" he muttered under his breath; panting, tasting sweat on his lips. _

_Just as the thing's skinny, almost skeletal arm shot out; reaching to grab on to him, a deafening roar exploded. The thing gave him one last, desperate look, before disappearing beneath the surface in the blink of an eye._

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><p>AN: Hmmm…Poor, poor Dean. Do you think I made him suffer too much? *smiles evilly* I think you guys know who's perspective was used in the last part. Anyhoo, how was this chapter? Did it make you feel like yer heart was wrenched out or anything like that? I wanna know, so go ahead and tell meh! I love the comments!

See ya guys in...about a week! ^_~


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